


The Wedding Disaster

by Zeckarin



Series: And they were roomates... (but there were two beds) [20]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale is "just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing" (Good Omens), Crowley's Plants (Good Omens), Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Food-Lover Aziraphale (Good Omens), Gen, Humor, Queerplatonic Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), crowley's games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:41:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22634500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeckarin/pseuds/Zeckarin
Summary: Crowley has a Problem with Weddings.He likes to ruin them.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: And they were roomates... (but there were two beds) [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1523585
Comments: 14
Kudos: 99





	The Wedding Disaster

**Author's Note:**

> February ficlets #8  
> Prompt : "Do you remember the last time we did this ?"
> 
> I love Aziraphale's bastardly side... ^^

“Do you remember the last time we did this ?” asked the angel as they stood side by side in front of the church.

“Yup,” answered Crowley, making the “p” pop.

“Do you remember what _happened_ that day ?”

“It wasn’t my fault !” complained the demon.

“What happened last time we did this, Crowley ?”

The demon pouted, looking away. “I got discorporated a little,” he mumbled.

“That you did. So asking you to behave is not, as you put it, _overreacting_. It is very prudent and logical, given the circumstances.” murmured Aziraphale, smiling widely as the bride and groom exited the building accompanied by cheers of joy.

“And what, pray tell, are said circumstances, angel ?” asked the demon with heavy sarcasm. He was pretty sure his friend was about to answer that he was too reckless at weddings to be left unsupervised, which was both hurtful and true.

“Do you even have to ask ? You cannot afford to get discorporated now, Crowley ! Hell would never give you another corporation. I do not even want to think what they would imagine to punish you for preventing Armageddon...”

 _Oh_. Crowley schooled his features, that were already preparing for an argument. This wasn’t the answer he’d expected.

“I won’t discorporate. Don’t worry.”

“That’s exactly what you said in 1199 at Châlus,” grumbled Aziraphale.

“That wasn’t even a wedding, angel !”

“Exactly. And you got discorporated _again_. Excuse me to feel a little concern about your propensity to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“1199 was war ! People get hurt at war, that’s not a good example !” yelled the demon, waving his arms around.

“You got killed because you _laughed_ when you saw Richard the Lionheart get hurt. And you were supposed to be part of _his_ army.”

“Oh, come on, don’t tell me you weren’t happy about it. The man was not very angelic.”

Aziraphale nodded. He remembered how 3000 prisoners had been slayed without mercy. As well as… other things. Not very angelic indeed.

“The Middle Ages weren’t a very good time to be a woman,” said Crowley, as if reading his mind.

The angel let out a mirthless chuckle. “I don’t think I remember a single period that was.”

“Well… look at the bride. She’s happy, right ?” provided Crowley, trying to lighten the mood. He didn’t like one bit that little frown between his friend’s eyebrows.

“For how long, I wonder,” was the bitter answer.

“Oh, come oooon ! The guy looks decent enough. I bet he’s in love. Is he ? You can sense that, right ?”

“He is,”answered Aziraphale, conjuring a champagne flute from one of the tables a little way away and handing it to his friend, who took it while waving at the bride with his other hand.

“So ? Why wouldn’t she be happy ?”

“Because you like to ruin weddings, you utter menace.”

“True enough,” conceded Crowley before sipping his drink.

Aziraphale conjured his own flute and raised it, tutting admonishingly.

“Oh. Sorry, angel, cheers.”

“To the happy couple.”

“We don’t even _know_ them, Aziraphale.”

“I can not pass by a wedding without a little blessing. That,” added the angel virtuously “is my angelic duty.”

“Yeah, course it is. And the wedding cake you’d been making eyes at for the last hour has nothing to do with it,” teased Crowley.

The angel’s mouth tugged at the corner.

“Well, you know the saying… a good deed is always rewarded.”

“A slice of cake for a life-long blessing… that’s dirt-cheap, angel. Selling yourself short. Literally.”

“I intend to eat more than one. You _will_ give me yours, won’t you, dear boy ?” asked Aziraphale matter-of-factly.

Crowley grinned inwardly.

“Oh… yeah, course, angel,” he assured a little too forcibly, letting his eyes wander towards the cake in longing for a split second before looking back at his friend with a self sacrificing smile.

Aziraphale’s eyes widened in understanding and remorse.

“Oh ! Oh, I am _so_ sorry ! I shouldn’t have _assumed_ … of course my own slice will be more than enough, I am not that hungry anyway, you know.”

“Angel. Was joking. You can have my share, obviously.”

Aziraphale scanned his face, still unsure.

“Crowley, are you quite certain ? It is a delicious looking cake, and I know you sometimes like to eat… I would hate to deprive you-”

“Shaddup, stupid. I was making fun of you, so stop being so freaking nice, it’s unsettling. You know I don’t care for vanilla anyway.”

Aziraphale gasped in realisation. “You _don’t_ ! You _hate_ vanilla ! You… mean… _horrible_ demon ! And here I was worrying about you !”

He took a step back, raising his chin in outrage, and headed towards the happy couple.

Crowley grinned in delight. This was going to be a fun outing. Incensed Aziraphale was always a treat.

The angel stopped a few feet away and looked over his shoulder.

“I will be _so_ nice to your plants when we get home. I will offer them so much encouragement they won’t even _remember_ was a threat feels like.”

“Don’t you _dare_ !” growled Crowley.

Aziraphale offered a victorious little smile and headed away.

 _Shit_ , thought the demon. He had to find a way to smuggle more cake to his angel, or the bastard would make good on his threat.

His mind reeling furiously, he started planning. He would need his female corporation, a screwdriver, a lace garter and at least one of his rats.

The angel sipped his second champagne flute, smiling indulgently. Crowley was obviously having a lot of fun and preparing for more. Weddings could be so boring for the dear boy. Creating some chaos would do him good.

He _may_ become a little reckless in the process, but Aziraphale would be there to thwart any attempt at discorporation.

Plus, that cake looked truly _delicious_.

**Author's Note:**

> Next prompt is "You know better than this. You really, really do."  
> It is already written. You'll have it in a few hours :)


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